


If only for tonight

by failurebydesign



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 05:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14129307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failurebydesign/pseuds/failurebydesign
Summary: Tito smiles just for him and it confirms everything for Mat.He's pretty much in love with Tito.





	If only for tonight

**Author's Note:**

> You know the drill. If you found this upon googling, exit immediately. You'll thank me later. This is a complete work of fiction and in no way am I implying that anything written in here is true.
> 
> This story started as a "I'm going to hurt Mat because I can" type of work (I'm terrible, I know), and transformed a bit into a character/dialog study. It's no surprise how much I love Jordan, Jordan and Mat's friendship, Tito and Mat's friendship and Tito's sassiness, so I wanted to play with that while taking a break from a larger work.

Mat doesn't see it coming. It hits him when he wakes up in Tito's apartment to him humming in the kitchen. He made a simple breakfast of eggs, sausage and toast— two plates, one which he delicately places in front of Mat with an accomplished smile.

“Breakfast is served, Mathew.”

Mat smiles to himself, then again just for Tito. It's a private moment between the two of them that throws Mat for a loop and turns his entire world upside down. 

Tito smiles just for him and it confirms everything for Mat. He's pretty much in love with Tito. 

Tito acts like he always does, cheerful and singing to himself in between bites of egg. It would be annoying if it were anyone else, but Mat's revelation means it all makes sense that Tito's quirks are downright charming.

It's not like he hears birds singing or feels like he's walking on clouds when he's around Tito. Things typically remain the same. It's just different, slightly. Like he's 100% aware of these feelings that he now has to try little harder to ignore. 

Mat finds himself sleeping at Tito's apartment more often, but he chalks it up to being more convenient than leaving late at night and possibly waking up Seids’ kids. So he opts for an extra round of Chel and just sleeps on Tito's couch.

It's always worse when they lose games— Tito, frustrated, keeps to himself and Mat finds it hard to get through to him.

They get shut out and Tito doesn't even bother with using video games as a distraction this time around. He just crawls into bed, face first in what Mat considers to be one of the most pathetic displays he's ever seen. 

And yet he's still stupidly in love with Tito.

“C'mon,” Mat sighs. “It sucks, but, like, you had so many chances. More than I did.”

“Not helping,” Tito says, muffled by his pillow.

“Get out of bed.” Mat rolls his eyes even though he knows Tito can't see him. It's the principle of it, really. 

“No.”

“Are you seriously going to wallow in self-pity all night?” Mat sits at the edge of the bed, but Tito just barely budges.

“Yes.”

Mat sighs, because he knows if anyone is equally as stubborn as he, it's Tito. “Move over then,” Mat says quietly and Tito does, just enough so that Mat can lay next to him.

“You can't be sad,” Tito says, turning his face towards Mat. It's dark, but Mat can make out his face just enough.

“Why the hell not?” Mat furrows his brows. “I was playing the same game as you, man. We both lost.”

“Yeah, but you're like, better,” Tito replies, his voice wavering slightly.

Mat doesn't know what to say to that because, yeah, he has more points overall, but it isn't about that at all. He knows any goals he has are a group effort and assists are pretty much the same thing with a little bit of added luck. Mat’s never that guy to take full credit for anything and knows that he wouldn't be half as successful without the rest of his line. 

“Plus you're going to win the Calder, which—”

It's not the way Mat plans to tell Tito how he feels because there's less words and more his mouth pressed to Tito's mouth than anything else. Tito doesn't push him away, he leans into it and then they're kissing a bit more frantic than Mat anticipates. 

It ends there, with Tito pulling away and smiling in the dark. Mat smiles, too, and takes in the fuzzy details that he stores in the back of his mind for later.

“Let's sleep,” Tito whispers, then gently tugs at the sleeve of Mat's t-shirt.

This begins a whole new routine for them, where breakfast is just an added bonus on the days when Mat’s feeling willing enough to let Tito leave the warmth of his bed first.

It doesn't go any further than kissing, followed by falling asleep wrapped in one another, and maybe it's just a comfort thing for Tito— Mat isn't sure when neither of them are exactly talking about it.

Mat feels giddy when he gets to go on excursions with Tito and even though they're not really dates or anything, they feel more like them each time.

They go to expensive restaurants, sometimes, and when their eyes meet across the table, Tito smiles each and every time without fail. Mat always finds his gut reaction is to blurt out a messy, “I love you,” but it feels like he's wading in dangerous waters and settles on, “you're an idiot,” instead.

And of course, Tito ducks his head and smiles fondly, which Mat thinks might be even worse.

They're on the road the first time Tito kisses him from outside the comfort of bed and it leaves Mat taken aback. It's nice, but Tito's less than hesitant, sloppy even, and Mat knows there's something unsaid that's hanging in the air.

“What's up?” Mat asks 

“I think my heads all messed up,” Tito says with a shrug. “I can't score and I'm over-thinking it and fuck, if I go back to Bridgeport— “

“Okay first,” Mat cuts Tito off, hand up. “You're not going to Bridgeport. And if you did? So what, there's nothing wrong with that. Second, if we're going by that logic and only keeping the guys who score, we're all going to Bridgeport, man.”

Tito laughs, just a little, but it's enough.

“I don't think we'd have a team.”

Mat feels a bit bad, because he's not exactly one to drag his team— he's still proud and takes every loss to heart, but he's also realistic and knows they're stuck in an emotional cycle of constant losses that even he can't help drag them out of.

“Well, just, don't give up, you know?” Mat gives Tito's shoulder a squeeze. 

“Have fun, right?” Tito just grins.

***

Tito is always happy before a game. He’s positive and smiling and Mat doesn’t get it because he’s far too focused and serious, himself. Mat listens to music, has his own list of things he does before warm ups but always watches as Tito slips down the tunnel, long before the arena fills up. It’s like clockwork.

When Tito returns, they fist bump.

They’re losing every night and even Tito seems a little frustrated after they’ve lost more than a few in a row.

Then it’s like something, if only briefly, shifts.

Mat has a pretty decent game, they finally pull off a win and he leaves Barclays singing, car windows down. It’s cold, but he doesn’t give a shit. Life is pretty amazing. By the time he parks in front of Tito’s apartment, he can’t stop smiling.

He has a key to Tito's apartment now, which would be absolutely normal under the circumstance that they were in a relationship, which— they’re not. Mat reminds himself of this as he slips inside.

The lights are on and one of Mat’s hoodies his hung over the back of the couch. He doesn’t remember leaving it, briefly questions if Tito had been wearing it for awhile. It’s not a thought that he expects to make his stomach do happy, little flips, but it solidifies everything he’s been thinking of telling Tito the minute he sees him.

He doesn’t see Tito, just hears him laugh from his bedroom and figures he’s on the phone. It’s that second, unfamiliar laugh that makes the flips in his stomach stop and immediately drop.

Whoever’s there, it doesn't matter. Mat doesn’t want to know and isn't sticking around to find out. By the time he gets back to his car, Mat doesn't feel like singing anymore.

Mat doesn't go home. There's no point. Not when he knows he'll just need to put on a fake smile to entertain the Seidenberg kids. He ends up parked in front of Jordan’s house, and doesn’t know why. It’s not like he’s going to out himself to Jordan.

“Dude, you can’t just show up at someone’s house because you’re bored.” Jordan sighs, but he lets Mat in despite looking like he was getting ready to crawl into bed.

“Don’t even tell me you were going to bed,” Mat says when he walks inside. “You’re the youngest old man I know.”

“Thanks, I think,” Jordan says. 

Mat helps himself to the fridge, grabs a can of beer and takes a long drink before setting it down on the counter.

“Um, yeah, no, help yourself.”

Three beers and approximately a dozen stupid youtube videos later, Jordan shifts in his seat and finally asks, “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Mat replies. Because he has no reason being bent out of shape over someone who’s clearly not waiting around for him. Tito’s his friend, and yeah, maybe he has feelings for him, but Mat knows that doesn’t matter— it stops here.

“Oh my God, you’re so full of shit.” Jordan motions to the empty beer cans on the table and raises an eyebrow. “Or are you just binge drinking out of boredom, too?”

Mat stays silent. Not because he doesn’t want Jordan’s advice, but he doesn’t think Jordan’s exactly versed in the romance department as of late. Especially not when it involves a teammate.

“Can we just watch more videos?” Mat has no problem being stubborn. 

Jordan may be persistent, but Mat’s been careful. It’s not like anyone’s that perceptive, anyway. 

Except Jordan sits up straight, sighs and then asks, “Are you and Tito fighting or something? Because you two literally hang out after just about every game.”

Mat feels something inside of him ache and his first instinct is to tell Jordan to fuck off. He doesn’t— it isn’t Jordan’s fault that Tito’s oblivious to it all and hooking up with someone he probably doesn’t even know. So he settles on, “Or something.”

“You'll fix things.” Jordan must be able to tell that Mat isn’t ready to divulge much more, because he frowns and leaves it at that.

“Yeah, maybe.” Mat doesn’t mean to be dismissive. Jordan’s been catering, hasn’t thrown him out yet and Mat’s probably been a little more rude than anything. Regardless, he’s decided that he’s done talking about it and definitely done thinking about Tito.

“Have you seen those videos of dogs walking in sneakers?”

Jordan’s trying, bless him, Mat thinks and shakes his head. “But I’m not so sure I want to.”

Jordan plays it anyway.

And maybe Mat laughs, a little, but it also makes him sad. 

It brings him back to a night when he’s laying next to a happy, humming Tito who’s distracted and thumbing through his instagram. Mat remembers how excited Tito was, how he rolled on his side and showed him photo after photo of different puppies. “I’m getting one,” Tito tells Mat.

Tito’s kind of like a puppy, Mat remembers thinking.

When Jordan's all out of videos to share and Mat with nothing left to say, he thanks Jordan for his company and once he’s back in the car, does the only other thing he knows— text Tito.

Mat isn't all that surprised when Tito doesn't answer, because why would he when he's probably still engrossed in his stupid, random hook-up. Tito’s always been good at giving his undivided attention to anyone he’s with. It’s one of those things the typically loves about Tito— now hates, knowing it isn’t something that’s exclusively shared between the two of them.

“Fuck,” he mumbles and tosses his phone onto the passenger seat. He doesn’t even care when it bounces off and slides onto the floor. It’s not like Tito’s going to answer, anyway, he thinks, as he turns the key in the ignition. 

He’s quiet when he sneaks down to his bedroom, relieved to find the kids, and especially the dogs, are nowhere to be seen. There’s no part of him that thinks he can fake a smile through another fairytale bedtime story. Not when he knows they’re all bullshit, anyway.

Mat doesn’t even bother getting undressed, just crawls under the blankets and doesn’t move again until he has to.

***

Practice is awkward and not because Tito ignores Mat— because he doesn’t. At all. Mat tries to ignore Tito, because he has things to “work on,” and it’s hard to concentrate when Tito circles around him and comes up with different ways to steal the puck away. He’s stolen enough, Mat tells himself.

They do their regular drills and Jordan gives Mat a look, but Mat just shrugs in response, like he doesn’t know what Jordan’s implying. Tito bumps him with a laugh on the way off the ice and Mat hates that he can’t even be properly mad at him.

Mat considers asking him about last night, but if he didn’t want to know then, really doesn’t want to now. He settles on yanking the back of Tito’s jersey when he walks by and reminds himself to remember to breathe when Tito laughs in response.

He takes a long shower, because they’re not playing today and there’s no rush to do much of anything. Tito’s being interviewed, so it gives Mat plenty of time to pull himself together and get out of there.

So naturally, Mat lingers.

“Wanna grab some lunch?” Tito catches Mat on his way back to his car. It’s not snowing or anything, but cold enough to leave Tito’s cheeks a light pink in that short walk out the door. He smiles and must think he needs to be a bit more convincing. “I’ll buy.”

“I don’t know,” Mat begins, because of course he knows. He’s still feeling a little petty, though, and making Tito work for his attention seems to be the best option.

“Please?” Tito doesn’t exactly beg, but Mat wasn’t really going to make him, anyway.

“Okay, okay,” Mat agrees and lets Tito drive, because the last time Mat attempted to go outside of his learned route, he got lost.

They end up eating burgers in a parking lot, which is definitely against their advised meal plan. Mat knows he’s a creature of habit and sticks to the same thing day after day, but Tito’s laugh paired with a, “it’ll be our secret, c’mon,” was enough for Mat to be okay with deviating from the plan.

“This is so bad,” Mat says with a laugh and takes a big bite of his burger. He can’t deny that it’s delicious.

“Sometimes you just have to misbehave.”

Tito’s eyes crinkle when he laughs and Mat hates it. 

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately, huh.” Mat doesn’t think it’s a good time to say it, but it still stings a little when he thinks about Tito laying next to someone else.

His mouth forms a small “o,” like he’s a little clueless regarding whatever it is Mat’s talking about, but then his expression changes to a sheepish grin. “Oh, I meant to text you back, it’s just— “

“No, I get it.” Mat sets his burger down, suddenly a lot less hungry. “Just, uh. Heard a little more than I needed to, that’s all.”

It’s the second time Tito’s cheeks turn pink. “Did you listen?”

Mat’s thankful he isn’t eating anymore— choking on air proves to be awkward enough.

“Actually, don’t tell me. That’s too much information.” Tito shrugs and goes back to his burger. 

Mat’s not at all surprised by how casual Tito is by it all. It isn’t like they’ve never gone out to bars and left in separate cars with someone else. But all of that seems to long ago to Mat, before the breakfasts and the quiet moments that they share. Or shared, possibly, if Tito’s regressing.

Tito turns up the radio on the way back and when he sings along to the music, Mat can’t keep from cracking a smile. He’s pretty terrible and Mat makes a point to tell him, but it only makes him sing even louder.

“Are you going home?” Tito lowers the radio when he pulls next to Mat’s car. 

He shrugs, because he hasn’t exactly thought that far ahead. “Probably?”

“Come over later,” Tito says. “Promise I’ll be a better host this time.”

Even if it might be a terrible idea, Mat agrees.

Mat does his laundry, cleans (sort of), and spends about an hour and a half playing video games with Seids’ kids. He loses the final round, on purpose, and there’s the prospect of rematch, but he’s all itchy and anxious and texts Tito to see if he’s around.

Tito responds quickly with about seven emojis which is as good as an invitation as any. 

He’s hesitant to let himself in this time, like Tito would somehow forget he’s coming over and bring someone else home. Mat thinks he’ll knock, but hears music, inhales, and lets himself in.

“Wow, record time.” Tito looks at his watch, then Mat with a grin and Mat doesn’t think he rushed over there, but maybe.

“I just spent two hours listening to kids screaming, give me a break.” Mat gives Tito’s shoulder a swat, but smiles.

“Fair,” Tito says back.

“Can we just— ” Mat runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t realize just how exhausted he is until he’s in the middle of Tito’s place, music blaring and every light in the damn place on. “Maybe bring it down a level?”

Tito switches off the music with a concerned frown. “Headache?”

“Yeah,” Mat says. “Long fucking week.”

“Oh, okay, well.” Tito grab’s Mat by the arm. “C’mon.”

Mat wonders, especially at times like these, if Tito knows just how compliant a simple touch makes him. He knows it’s routine, they always do this when one of them is feeling down, but this time it just feels… different. 

Tito’s bed is warm, like home, and Mat closes his eyes the instant his head hits the pillow. He’s exhausted, mentally, more than anything. Tito follows close behind and Mat can feel the mattress sink down when he sprawls out next to him.

“You can vent here, you know,” Tito says softly.

Mat doesn’t answer, just enjoys the silence while he still can.

“You’re pissed at me.” Tito moves— Mat can feel the bed shift.

“What are you— ,” Mat begins and turns to his side.

“Are we still friends?” Tito furrows his brows and there’s a little bit of sadness behind his eyes that tug at Mat’s heart. It’s completely left field.

“What?” Mat chews at his bottom lip and tries not to react to Tito’s sadness. “Why wouldn’t we be?” 

Tito is quiet, at first, and Mat’s stomach feels the worry in the pit of his stomach.

Vulnerability isn’t something Mat likes to admit to. He keeps his emotions in check more often than not, never allowing anyone to see through the cracks. It’s why he knows there’s something different about Tito, when he so easily wiggles his way in to Mat’s life. Mat is flawed, but Tito is, too, and together, like that, they just fit.

“You’ve been, dunno, distant?” Tito turns in to Mat and gives his arm a squeeze.

Mat presses his mouth to Tito’s because it’s better than talking and thinking is overrated. Tito makes a soft sound and leans in, hand coming up to rest at the side of his face. Everything seems much more simple when Mat focuses on the way Tito seems to melt into him.

He doesn’t plan on stopping, but Tito does, to press a kiss to Mat’s cheek. “Smile.”

Mat does, not because he’s happy, it’s debatable— because he can’t not smile when Tito asks. 

And yeah, Mat’s still in love with Tito.

***

Mat wakes up in the middle of the night in an empty bed. He almost forgets where he is until he hears Tito’s voice in the doorway.

“Shit, did I wake you up?” He runs a hand over his face, yawns and lowers himself down on the mattress with a sleepy smile. “Had to piss.”

“Romantic,” Mat says and pulls down the sheet.

“Do you like that?”

“What, knowing about your piss habits? No.” Mat wrinkles his nose because, what the hell.

Tito laughs. “Romance, stupid.”

Mat thinks about it, briefly, and thinks he might depending on the circumstance. He’s always spoiled everyone he’s dated and Tito— he’d definitely spoil him, too.

“I’d take you to dinner,” Mat says without thinking. Because he would.

“We already go to dinner.” Tito pulls the blanket over himself and suddenly he’s dangerously close. “What else?”

Mat doesn’t like the hypothetical, because if Tito’s playing a game, there’s nothing funny about it. “I could show you, you know. Just for shits and giggles.”

“Mat, are you asking me out on a date?” Tito's face does something that tells Mat he might actually be thinking about it.

“No, it's hypothetical.” He feels a bit like a liar, because it's definitely not.

“Oh.” Tito's face falls.

Something clicks and feels his heartbeat quicken. It's almost like Tito wants a date with him.

“Oh,” Mat repeats.

“Well, hypothetically, I'd say yes.”

Turns out Tito's kind of in love with Mat, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, I love feedback so don't be shy. (Though not necessary so no pressure!) 
> 
> This story started as a "I'm going to hurt Mat because I can" type of work (I'm terrible, I know), and transformed a bit into a character/dialog study. It's no surprise how much I love Jordan, Jordan and Mat's friendship, Tito and Mat's friendship and Tito's sassiness, so I wanted to play with that while taking a break from a larger work.
> 
> Thank you to glazedsun, lotts, and everyone else who beta'd/read this over/cheer-leaded and so forth. You're all great! <3
> 
> Feel free to follow me on twitter @ dejadejayou or titobeauvillier on tumblr!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] If only for tonight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518950) by [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/pseuds/eafay70)




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